It's Dark
by mbenson
Summary: The man knows she is alone. She doesn't expect his visit. How will she react to seeing him?
1. Introduction

**This is simply the introduction for a new E/O story I have in mind. (That is why it is so short.) If you like the idea of it, please tell me to continue. No response means I don't think anyone is interested, and I will abandon it. I promise I am working on my other stories although it appears I have forgotten about them. Updates will be posted shortly. Thank you for reading and reviewing. It means a lot.**

**I do not own the characters or Law and Order: SVU. **

* * *

**Introduction**

It's dark.

The time is 8:26 pm.

The place is Manhattan, New York.

Specifically, the 16th precinct of the New York Police Department.

She's alone. She's always alone at this time. Anyone who knows her, knows she is married to her job. She doesn't have time for anything else in her life. She has no balance. Eat, sleep, work. Not necessarily in that order. Not necessarily at all. Sometimes work is the only option.

The man who is coming to visit her knows this. He knows of her work schedule, her work _life_. He knows that even if everyone has left, she will still be there, with the only light in the whole building radiating from her desk lamp and the only sound, her labored breathing.

He parks at the side of the road, which has not begun to calm down yet even for night.

The city never sleeps, and neither does she.

The sidewalk is free of crowds, creating an easy pathway to the door.

The _ding_ of the elevator notifies him it is on the first floor shortly after he presses the button. No one else is around to create traffic. He isn't sure he'd be able to patiently wait if there was.

The doors close and reopen, allowing his exit at the arrival of the floor she is on.

She perks up, a sound traveling from outside her closed office door to her ears.

Listening carefully, no other sounds emanate. She furrows her brow, believing she is paranoid and never actually heard anything.

She dips her head back downward to the file she is reading.

She stands from behind her desk and walks over to her file cabinet to lock the files away. Before she shuts the door, she remembers she forgot to add a paper in the folder. She pulls it back out and reopens it.

She jumps, three knocks on the door startling her.

To her disadvantage, the blinds are shut on the window, so she can not see who is waiting to enter.

"Come in," she calls, instinctively placing her hand on the gun attached to her hip, for she is not expecting any visitors this late in the evening.

The door creaks open.

The man steps in.

Her breath is caught in her throat as soon as she sees who is standing in front of her.

Files and papers crash to the ground.

Her hands shakily reach up to cover her mouth, which had fallen open out of shock.

She becomes immobile, her body frozen, her mind spinning.

Oxygen is forgotten, and her lungs cry out.

He speaks.

She's nauseous.

Her eyelids flutter shut.

She falls.

It's dark.

* * *

**(Insert theme song)**


	2. Chapter 1: Just Keep Your Heart Beating

**Thank you for the lovely reviews. Here's the first chapter of It's Dark! Enjoy! Please tell me what you think! **

**Same disclaimer as always.**

_It's dark._

_The red flashes lit up the streets brighter than any headlights or streetlamps._

_Sirens were blaring, a sound not foreign to her ears._

_Except the screeching sound never grew closer and never faded away._

_It was with her, constantly. Echoing in her ears._

_A high-pitched scream, then a softer roar. A cycle. Repeating, repeating, repeating._

_He was scared._

_Terrified._

_"Just hold on."_

_"What happened?"_

_"Don't let go. Please."_

_"She's in shock."_

_"Just keep your heart beating."_

_Rumbling in her ears of different pitches spoke these words over the sirens._

_She recognized one voice. The man's._

_He was encouraging her. To hold on._

_Everything was so loud._

_The noise, the noise._

_She wanted it to stop. She wanted it quiet._

_He just wanted her to live._

_Louder and louder and louder._

_Make it stop!_

_Make it stop!_

_Just keep your heart beating._

* * *

_The sirens, the alarms. They disappeared._

_The voices were still haunting. _

_Two she recognized this time._

_"-PTSD."_

_"-didn't realize she was still in this state."_

_"-still unrecovered from-"_

_"Will she be okay?"_

_"She always is."_

_Just keep your heart beating._

* * *

"It's beating," she whispers to the shadow against the white wall, "it's beating." She becomes aware of the tickle under her nose, and her eyes widen as she reaches her hands up to rip the oxygen tubes off of her face. The shadow on the wall lunges forward, and she realizes it is not a shadow. It's a man. It's the same man that visited her last night.

"Oh, no, you don't. Those are staying on," he instructs, carefully pulling her hands away from the nasal cannula. This is the voice that was coaxing her in her dream. Dream?

Nightmare? Nightmare.

_The noise_. She winces.

Reality.

She trembles slightly under his touch.

"I'm breathing, aren't I?"

"Maybe we should get the doctor's opinion, first?" he suggests, pressing the service button on the wall behind the hospital bed.

"I'm fine."

She succeeds in tearing them off her face.

"Liv," he warns.

She scrunches up her face.

"What are you even doing here-"

A smiling face in a white coat interrupts, "I see someone is awake."

She rolls her eyes.

"How long was I out?"

"Oh, not too long. Just a few hour-"

"So when can I be discharged?"

The doctor chuckles.

"Very urgent I see? Detective Benson-"

"Sergeant."

He clears his throat. "Sergeant, my apologies. Don Cragen came by to see you while you were still asleep. He informed me of the trauma you experienced not too long ago. He says you were suffering from PTSD, but were insistent on returning to work before you really should have. You are still showing these signs, given the state of shock you were in earlier. Ms. Benson, you need to take better care of yourself. Take time off from work-"

"I'm fine. I have to be at work."

Her voice is cold, insistent.

"Liv, the doctor knows what he's talking abo-"

"You shut up, and stay out of this, Elliot!" she snaps, turning her attention from the young doctor to him.

She sits up in bed, attempting to create a more presentable manner other than a helpless girl sitting in a hospital bed.

"You don't just get to come out of nowhere and expect to boss me around or have any say in what I do with my life for that matter! Got that, Stabler?"

He nods.

The doctor's eyes shift uncomfortably between the two.

"Mr. Stabler, perhaps you could give us a moment?"

Elliot turns in a huff to walk out.

He can't leave.

He won't come back.

He will disappear, like a ghost.

_The noise._

Olivia panics and speaks up.

"He's staying."

Elliot stops.

The doctor speaks.

"Very well, then."

* * *

She hops out of bed as soon as the doctor clears her and leaves the room.

"What was that?" Elliot asks.

Her teeth clench.

"What?"

His blue eyes are icy.

"You tell me to shut up, but you won't let me leave?"

Her eyes widen in disbelief.

"You can't just walk back into my life like this and expect to take control of it!"

His face softens, surprising her.

"Then why wouldn't you let me leave?"

She slowly sinks back on to the bed, tangling her hands with each other.

An uncomfortable feeling creeps inside her, nauseating her stomach.

"Where are my clothes?"

He hesitates. She didn't answer his question.

"The nurse hung them in the bathroom."

She nods, and walks away in silence.

"Liv?"

"Don't leave."

The door shuts.

She places her hands on either side of the sink to support herself.

A long, heavy sigh is released.

She hesitates before meeting her waiting reflection.

The face is not recognizable to herself.

The bags under her eyes are more pronounced.

Her skin, paler.

Darkened shadows highlight her cheekbones.

Her fingers lightly trace the scar on the corner of her forehead which was created when the gun crashed against her skull.

She flinches in reminiscence.

"Who am I?" she whispers.

The freezing water gives feeling back to her nerves as she splashes it against her clammy face.

She peels away the hospital gown from her sticky skin.

The mirror only allows her breasts and above to be visible in her eyesight.

She notices how more defined her collarbone is.

She's unhealthy.

Quickly, she throws her clothes on, no longer wanting to see herself.

Her hand grasps the metal door handle.

Inhale. Exhale.

_He isn't there_.

The door opens.

He is there.

And he's not alone.

"Nick? Fin?"

"Hey, baby-girl."

"Hey, Liv. We brought you some breakfast."

"And Elliot's car." Fin tosses his keys over to him.

"Thanks guys. What time is it?"

"It's about a quarter to 5," Fin answers.

"Guys, go home, and go back to bed. This is ridiculous. I'm fine." She takes the bag from Nick's hand. "But thank you both."

Fin engulfs her in a tight hug, shocking her at his affection, but graciously accepts. "You need to stop pushing yourself so much, Liv. Take care of yourself. Please."

"Fin, I'm okay."

He releases her, and Nick replaces Fin's embrace with a side-hug. "Don't come back until you're ready. We can handle it for a while. Okay?"

"I won't be gone long."

"You take as long as you need. Seriously."

"Okay, Nick."

"Shall I take you home?" Elliot interjects.

"Yeah, that would be great."

* * *

The ride home consists of nothing but silence.

Until Elliot breaks it.

"Why are you so insistent on me staying? I know you're mad. Why are you letting me back in so easily?"

She stares out the window, the sun still refusing to awaken this early.

"You're right. I am mad."

"You're avoiding the question, Liv."

"Because you're a ghost, Elliot. You're going to disappear."

"I'm not. I'm here."

He reaches over to grasp one of her hands. "I'm here. I'm not going to disappear."

A tear slides down her cheek and drops onto the hand holding hers.

"But you already did."

"I know I did. But I'm here now."

He puts the car in park.

"Let's get you inside so you can eat, okay?"

She nods in response.

* * *

He softly shuts her apartment door and tells her to change into something comfortable to which she obliges.

Emerging from her room, she wears a baggy t-shirt, sweatpants, and her hair in a bun.

"I'm not even hungry."

"You have to eat, Olivia."

"I don't have much of an appetite."

"Eating will help you regain your appetitie." He lifts the breakfast sandwich and hashbrowns from the bag Nick and Fin delivered and slides them across the counter to her.

She pushes them away.

"Really, I'm fine."

He stares at her for a few seconds before acting.

"Would you stop saying you're fine? You're not fine, Olivia." He grasps her wrist and drags her away from the counter. "Come with me."

"What are you-"

Her words are cut off by his.

"Look at yourself."

They are standing in her bathroom, staring at their reflections in the full-length mirror on the back of the door.

He repeats himself.

"Look at yourself. Olivia, you're pale. You've lost the glowing color of your skin."

She looks to the tile ground.

His fingers lift her chin back up.

Softly, his fingertips trace underneath her eyes. "You're exhausting yourself, do you see that?"

She blinks away the tears, and gives one nod.

His fingers follow the defined lines of her cheekbones. "Olivia, you have beautiful cheekbones, but look at the shadows on them. It's unhealthy."

A couple tears pool over, and he wipes them away.

His hands trace down to her shoulders, feeling the boniness of her shoulder blades. One hand travels further down her spine and over her bra strap.

"Haven't the guys been looking out for you?"

"I just tell them that-"

"You're fine. Why do you keep lying to everyone?"

"If you say it enough times, eventually you'll believe it yourself."

The other hand follows, and assists the other in lifting her shirt up.

"El-" she protests.

"Arms up."

She obeys, and allows him to remove her t-shirt, feeling exposed aside from her sports bra.

"See your collorbone? Your ribs? Your stomach?"

She doesn't attempt to hold back anymore tears from falling as she whimpers a soft, "Yes."

"Olivia Benson, you a strong and beautiful woman, do you hear me?"

She doesn't respond, so he turns her around to face him.

"If you're convinced that saying something enough times makes you believe it, then say this: I am strong, and I am beautiful."

She shakes her head.

"Olivia, say it."

She bites her lip, then whispers, "I am strong and beautiful."

He nods.

"Yes, you are."

He forces her to do a 180° so she is facing herself again.

"If you are strong and beautiful, is this what you want to see when you look at yourself? This isn't you, Liv."

She shakes her head.

"It's not me."

"You must take better care of yourself. Listen to my voice."

"I'm listening to you. Your voice is what I held on to earlier."

_Just keep your heart beating_.


	3. Chapter 2: Don't Go

**Chapter Two. Enjoy! **

* * *

_Don't go._

The words are internal.

She wants him to stay with her, she needs him to.

She wouldn't be able to survive if he doesn't.

He's the only one who is capable of picking up her broken pieces and gluing them back together, and she hopes he knows this.

He does. She knows he does.

If he didn't know how to fix her, she wouldn't be finishing the final bite of this hashbrown.

She swallows.

"Happy?" she asks.

He smiles warmly.

"I am. How about you make me even happier and go get some sleep?" he offers, throwing away the trash for her.

She glances to the room behind her.

It isn't inviting.

It's lonely.

It's dark.

She looks back to him, a pleading look in her eyes. _Don't go._

Her voice is hushed. "And what will you do?"

She knows his answer.

He will leave. He will go home. This isn't home.

"Well, I should-"

"Stay," she interjects. "You should stay." It's a desperate plea. She doesn't want to be alone. Not now.

Not anymore.

He sees. He sees the vulnerability, the desperateness.

"Okay," he whispers, reaching over to softly stroke her hair. "I'll stay. Go get some rest."

She looks down to the counter as she nods.

Then she leaves him in the kitchen to go to her room.

She enters the doorway, but turns back to him.

"El," her voice cracks.

He doesn't say anything, but he understands by the way she spoke his name.

His hand grasps hers before following her over to her bed.

She flicks the lamp on beside her bed as Elliot pulls the covers down for her to slip into.

"Lie down, Liv."

She obliges and allows him to cover her with blankets.

She's not weak, she reminds herself.

She's not.

She's simply accepting his willingness to help her in a moment of..._ weakness._

_She's not weak. _Her brows furrow as she attempts to convince herself that.

Elliot has the capability of reading her like an open book.

He watches her carefully as she is deep in thought.

As he flicks her lamp off, he softly tells her, "It's okay not to be okay, you know."

She's quiet for a moment.

All she wants is to believe him.

"It is?" she asks softly.

She feels the bed dip as he carefully sits down.

"Of course it is. It's okay to need others to depend on. And it's okay for others to depend on you. You just can't lose yourself in the process of either."

_Did she lose herself?_

She tenses.

"But I know you, Olivia. Let me help you find yourself again."

In the dark, his hand gently caresses the side of her face.

She turns her head and relaxes into his touch.

Her lips brush against his palm.

"Okay."

His hand begins to softly stroke her hair.

The tender gesture soothes her.

"Go to sleep, Liv," he whispers in the quiet air.

He continues the placid strokes through her hair until he believes she has fallen asleep.

His movements slow.

Careful not to wake her, he stands up, barely rustling the covers.

"El," she mumbles.

He waits.

"Don't go," she protests tiredly.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right out there."

"Could you..."

"What do you need, Liv?" he asks.

"Could you...Do you want to...lie down in here?"

He doesn't respond right away.

"You want me to?" is all he manages. It's not smug, just reassurance.

"Mmm." He hears her shift in bed to create space for him.

He hesitates. But he accepts her offer and joins her.

Neither of them say anything.

They lie there in silence.

The sun should be rising soon, but her blinds and curtains block out any trespassing light.

Elliot stares at the ceiling.

Olivia stares at the back of her eyelids.

She still sees the memories that haunt her.

They terrorize her.

She can't forget.

She remembers the smell. Blood, alcohol, sweat.

It's vivid. It's seeping into her nose. It's here.

She feels the metal.

The metal gun tracing her cheekbone.

It's being forced into her mouth. Her tongue traces the muzzle, and she chokes...

She flinches, and her eyes shoot open.

It's dark.

It's her bedroom.

"El," she breathes. She reaches her hand out and finds his shoulder, gripping it.

"Liv, what's wrong?" He turns to his side and searches for her eyes in the shadows.

Her lips quiver.

She squeezes her eyes shut.

She doesn't trust her voice.

"I still have nightmares," she whispers.

He doesn't know whether he should ask about them or pull her into his arms to comfort her.

Option two.

"Come here," he orders quietly.

She doesn't hesitate.

Her head fits perfectly in the crook of his neck, and his chin rests on the top.

His strong arms give her a feeling of security she hasn't experienced in God knows how long.

She feels safe, protected, cared for.

Elliot holds her tightly and breathes in the aroma of her hair.

Having Olivia in his arms is something he never expected to experience.

He's more than grateful that he gets to now.

He might not let her go.

Ever.

"He broke into my apartment and pointed a gun to my forehead. I froze. I didn't know what to do."

Elliot's thumb brushes her arm in a slow, circular motion.

He knows what happened, but he doesn't know the details.

He didn't want to hear them from anyone but her when she was ready.

"He tied me up. Put duct tape over my mouth. He hurt me."

Her voice is robotic.

"I was forced to drink alcohol."

He feels moisture slide down his neck.

She's trying to hold back her tears, but failing.

"God, when he smashed the gun to my head..."

She winces.

"I still have the scar."

She finds one of his hands and leads it to her forehead. She uses his index finger to trace the scar.

He inhales sharply, feeling the mark. He uses the opportunity to trail his finger down and wipe away a couple tears.

"He's a monster," Elliot says.

"He's dead," she responds.

Another tear escapes.

"He's dead, but he's still alive. I close my eyes, and I'm back in the trunk. Or in the backseat of the car, hidden under the tarp, and he killed that innocent cop."

She clutches his t-shirt until her knuckles go white.

"Or I'm in that goddamned house, handcuffed the the bed. The blood and sweat. He taunted me. Telling me what he's gonna do. The gun was in my mouth when I talked back. One little movement of his finger is all it took. I just wanted to live...I just wanted to live..."

She makes a small whimpering sound.

Elliot can't stop the couple tears from pooling over.

He could've lost her, and he wasn't there to save her.

"Somehow I broke free. I don't know how. I just kept fighting. Then he was on the ground, and I realized I did that. And I was beating him, and he was taunting me. I didn't shoot him. I wanted to watch him suffer. He broke me. I was a monster too."

"No, Liv, don't say that about yourself."

She continues.

"He brought up my mother. He brought up you. I told him what you would've done. Broke him. Broke him in every possible way. But he broke me. And I keep having nightmares."

That's all she says.

The tears stop flowing.

She releases his shirt and cups his face.

_Elliot._

She smiles. "You're real."

"Olivia, the nightmares will fade away. I won't. Never again," he promises.

And the sincerity in his voice makes her believe him.

"You're safe now." He holds her closer. "You're okay."

She nods her head against him and releases a long sigh.

His warm embrace comforts her.

She believes him.

She does.

In his arms, she can sleep.

She closes her eyes and sees no nightmares.

She sees a familiar face smiling back at her.

The smiling face of the man holding her.

It's one final thought before she falls asleep.

_Don't go._

* * *

**Review please(: I hope you are enjoying this-the style is different for me, so I really hope you like it! Let me know! (:**


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